


The Kink King of Seishun Academy

by Kantayra



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-07
Updated: 2009-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-19 02:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“I kept saying I was sore, but Oishi insisted he had to whip me into shape.”</i> Oh, Eiji, you should not say such things where the rumor mill can hear them and run wild... Poor Oishi may never be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kink King of Seishun Academy

**Author's Note:**

> It has come to my attention that I don't torture Oishi _nearly_ enough, yet he's so much fun to torture! It had to be remedied.

It all started with Fuji, which was actually how most shit at Seigaku got stirred in the first place, so that part wasn’t really all that surprising.

Kikumaru was yawning and trying not to fall asleep on his desk before class even started, which also wasn’t all that unusual, and when Fuji asked him why he was so tired, Kikumaru responded unthinkingly, “Oishi kept me up _all night_!”

Fuji considered this for a moment with crinkled eyes and a devious smile. “Oishi’s been tying you up at night, has he?” he asked with a smirk in his voice, because this was just too much fun to pass up.

“Mmph,” Kikumaru agreed, blissfully ignorant of all the implications of what he was saying. “I kept saying I was sore, but Oishi insisted he had to whip me into shape.”

Kikumaru, of course, was talking about his latest stamina training for tennis, which Fuji knew quite well, but there were at least half a dozen girls in their class, who were interestedly eavesdropping on their conversation, and they _didn’t_ know that. Fuji pressed onward.

“That Oishi is a real slave-driver, huh?” he teased.

Kikumaru smiled, because he knew exactly what Fuji was getting at. Oishi was so dedicated to improving Kikumaru’s tennis, and Kikumaru was practically bursting with pride for his doubles partner. “I’m the luckiest guy alive,” he sighed wistfully.

And then their math teacher arrived, class started, and Kikumaru really _did_ fall asleep with a blissful smile on his face as he dreamt of Oishi and balls…tennis balls, that is.

***

During the course of that very boring math lecture, several extremely important text messages were disseminated throughout Seigaku, despite the fact that none of the girls were supposed to have their phones with them in class:

>   
> _omg! oishi & eiji r sooo doin it! omg!_
> 
>  _oishi is seme lol!_
> 
>  _poor eiji up all night cuz of oishi!_
> 
>  _eiji totes sez oishi uses whip omg omg omg!_
> 
>  _eiji is soooooo lucky! hawt!_
> 
>  _did u here? oishi into bondage!_
> 
>  _oishi + black leather = yum! ~_^_
> 
>  _kawaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii_   
> 

Oishi, in his own history class, of course had no way of knowing what was going on. However, approximately halfway through the lecture, he caught the girl two seats down from him _staring_ him. When she realized she was caught, she blushed a deep red, looked pointedly away, and giggled behind her hand.

Oishi blinked. That had been weird. He began to worry that his fangirls were closing in on him once more.

“The Edo Period ended,” his teacher droned on in endless monotone, perfectly designed to induce comas within the student body, “with the Meiji Restoration of…”

Oishi stared off into the distance and realized that the two girls by the window must have thought he was looking at _them_ , because they each made silent little “eep!” gestures, shared a knowing look, and buried their noses back in their textbooks.

If Oishi were the paranoid sort, he’d be freaking out right now. As it was, he rubbed surreptitiously at his nose, wondering if there was a smudge on it or something.

He turned his attention back to the lecture and noticed, with some annoyance, that the girl sitting in front of him was texting on the phone she wasn’t supposed to have in class. Her fingers were moving at lightning-quick speed, and there were only three letters that fangirls could type together that quickly from rote memory: _omg omg omg omg omg!_

Oishi sighed wearily. After class, he’d have to have an earnest discussion with the girl about the importance of paying attention to their teacher and obeying the rules. He wasn’t a squealer, though, so he wouldn’t report her as long as she didn’t do it again. Oishi brimmed with goodwill toward his fellow students at this decision, confident that he was doing his part to make all their lives happy, productive, and wholesome.

And then the girl glanced at him over her shoulder, _winked_ , and made a _very_ obscene gesture with her hands.

Oishi fell right out of his desk in the middle of class and disrupted a _very_ irate teacher in the middle of listing off an endless succession of dates. “Uh…sorry?” Oishi’s voice cracked.

“Principal’s office!” the teacher pointed angrily at the door.

“Oishi’s the one who’s going to get some _discipline_ for a change!” someone with the amazing ability to throw their voice hollered out.

And _everyone_ laughed, seemingly in on the joke.

Oishi sputtered and fled to safety.

***

“Ah,” the principal said, glancing over Oishi’s file. “Oishi Shuichiro. Third-year, Class 2. Perfect attendance record, I see. Tennis club vice-captain, committee on public health, astronomy club… All quite wholesome.”

Oishi breathed a sigh of relief. “I just like to do my best to support my team and classmates,” he said earnestly. “I didn’t mean to get distracted in class, sir.”

“Yes, yes,” the principal agreed. “That’s excellent, just excellent.” He frowned at a note scribbled at the bottom of the last page by the school psychologist. It was dated to just today. “I am, however,” the principal continued, a bit embarrassed, “somewhat concerned about your recent interest in bondage activities with your fellow teammates.”

Oishi collapsed on the floor for the second time that day.

***

“Did you hear?” Murata nudged Yoshida in the lunch line.

“You mean, about Oishi-senpai?” Yoshida whispered back.

“They say he handcuffs Kikumaru-senpai to his bed all the time and whips him.”

“I heard he uses a ball gag.”

“Well, _I_ heard,” Hayashi cut in, because of _course_ everyone was listening in on the conversation, because they were whispering so conspiratorially, “that he spanks the whole team every day after practice.”

“‘Whip us into shape, vice-captain!’” Murata laughed.

“Yeah?” Arai cut in, chest puffed up and full of bluster. “Well, _I’m_ on the tennis team!”

Everyone grew silent at this new figure of authority on Oishi gossip.

“And,” Arai’s voice dropped, “it’s _all true_! Oishi-senpai and Kikumaru-senpai sneak off to the locker rooms _all_ the time. And the first-years are always _so_ sore after Oishi-senpai ‘warms up’ with them.”

Gasps sounded throughout the audience.

And Oishi covertly snuck from behind the large ficus tree that shielded him from the rest of the lunch room and _dashed_ out the door to safety while everyone was distracted.

***

Oishi’s head peeked nervously around the corner. The wind blew softly across the empty rooftop of the school building. Oishi breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe. He was alone. Now he could actually eat his lunch and try to figure out what on _earth_ was going on and how to fix it.

Oishi slunk over to the wall and sat down with a good view of the entrance, so he could dash and run in case any more of his classmates decided to show up. He didn’t think he could face any of them now, at least not until he’d sorted this whole mess out.

Letting his shoulders relax marginally, Oishi opened up his bento box—

“Onigiri today?”

—And nearly jumped out of his skin. “Ahh!” Oishi yelled, flailing, and fell backwards right off his seat, his lunch flying in the air as he did so.

Fortunately, his companion had quick reflexes and caught it in time. “Are you okay?” Kawamura asked anxiously.

Oishi hesitated. He’d been trying to avoid everybody because he just couldn’t face them. But, if he had to encounter someone, Kawamura wasn’t so bad. Nice, safe, kind, non-judgmental Kawamura, who was smiling and offering him his rescued lunch. Oishi forced himself to calm down.

“Ah, yes. Thanks.” He sheepishly accepted his lunch. “Sorry about that. I’m…a little bit jumpy right now. What with the…er…” Oishi wasn’t sure whether Kawamura had heard, actually, and if he _hadn’t_ , Oishi sure didn’t want to be the one to tell him.

Kawamura gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about that silly gossip,” he assured Oishi. “None of them have any idea what they’re talking about.”

Oishi sighed with relief. Good, old, reliable Kawamura… “Thanks so much, Taka. I feel like I’ve been judged before I even had a chance to get my say in, you know?”

Kawamura nodded seriously and sat down next to Oishi with his own lunch. “That’s the problem with school gossip. Everyone jumps to conclusions, without any real thought for the people involved.”

Oishi nodded back. “The world would be such a better place if people didn’t judge.”

“It would,” Kawamura agreed fervently.

“Some day,” Oishi declared, “I want to make it into that kind of place!”

“I’m sure you will, Oishi,” Kawamura assured him equally wholesomely. “You’re already such a good vice-captain.”

Oishi beamed.

Kawamura beamed back.

Oishi almost relaxed.

And then Kawamura said, “There’s absolutely _nothing_ wrong with a little bondage between two consenting people who are in love.”

Oishi froze.

“People shouldn’t judge what they haven’t tried,” Kawamura continued. “It might seem strange at first, but Fuji and I have always found that bondage helps us build trust in our relationship. And I’m sure that’s true with you and Eiji, too.”

Oishi’s face turned a bright red. “Uh… I…”

“You learn to depend on another person that way, and you learn that it’s okay to need someone that much.” Kawamura let out a wistful sigh. “It’s all about expressing your love and letting the person you love know that they’re always safe with you. Isn’t that right?”

“Er…” Oishi squeaked.

Kawamura’s cheeks turned red, as well. “Plus, it’s a lot of fun. Keeps things exciting, you know?”

“Urk?” Oishi had, apparently, lost the ability to come up with even the basic components of words.

“So,” Kawamura patted Oishi’s shoulder again in a manly, comradely way, “I just wanted to let you know that I understand. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.”

“Bwee…” Oishi still wasn’t having much luck with syllables.

“And,” Kawamura’s eyelashes lowered, “if you’re ever feeling _more_ adventurous, I know Eiji would trust Fuji, and…I would trust you, too. Maybe we can try some things together some time?”

“Nerfffffffff!”

“Only if you and Eiji are comfortable with it, though,” Kawamura hastily assured him. “I just wanted to leave the option open. Fuji and I know how hard it is to come up with partner-swaps that we feel safe with.”

“Murple…”

Kawamura frowned down at where Oishi was clutching his bento box like it was a lifejacket. “Aren’t you going to eat that?”

Somehow, Oishi’s brain rediscovered its language centers. “Not hungry. Gotta go!”

“I’ll see you at practice, then.” Kawamura waved. “And let Eiji know what we talked about!”

“Bluuuuuuu!” Oishi fled to safety.

***

“Safe here. No one will find me. Safe here. No one will find me…” Oishi repeated his mantra to himself over and over again as he hid the back stall of the men’s bathroom. He didn’t even care that he was cutting class. He was pretty sure that, if he suffered any more embarrassment, he’d get permanent brain damage. Before, he wouldn’t have thought that was even physically possible, but now he knew better.

It was safe here, though, curled up in the fetal position in the back corner of his bathroom stall. No one could find him, as Oishi repeated to himself every time the horror threatened to take away his sanity once more.

And then his phone rang.

Oishi yelped and looked around in alarm, and it took him an embarrassingly long time to figure out what the buzzing sound was. Finally, however, he fumbled for the phone in his pocket and opened it. The caller ID said it was Mukahi from Hyotei. Oishi could think of no reason whatsoever why Mukahi would call him, but at least Mukahi wasn’t from Seigaku, so this couldn’t _possibly_ be about that stupid rumor that was running around school all day. It was probably about tennis. Sweet, sweet tennis… How Oishi missed the days when all his life had revolved around tennis!

He answered the phone.

“Yo, Oishi,” Mukahi said.

“Yes?” Oishi answered hopefully. “Is this about tennis?”

“Tennis?” Mukahi scoffed. “Unlikely. I just heard you knew about this sort of thing, and I needed some advice. Do you know of any good brands of anal beads that are easy to clean? Because, I swear to god, the ones I use on Yushi are a pain in the ass, and not in the good way, if you know what I mean…”

Oishi screamed and dropped his phone in the toilet. It sparked and sputtered and died an ignoble death. This was probably just as well, as Oishi fled from the bathroom, with only one thought in mind:

 _Nowhere is safe!_

***

Oishi’s mad screaming dash through the school probably would have continued indefinitely, had he not crashed into Momoshiro getting out of his last class of the day.

“Hey, hey, Oishi-senpai!” Momoshiro slung a friendly arm around Oishi’s shoulders. “You’re sure headed for practice in a hurry.”

 _Practice?_ Oishi’s brain sputtered for a moment before he finally realized that the time for torture was over, and now came the loving embrace of tennis…if only Oishi could avoid Kawamura.

“Come on,” Momoshiro said. “We don’t want to be late.”

Yes, punctuality and tennis! Two of Oishi’s favorite things. The madness that had crept into Oishi’s brain slowly began to recede.

“So, I heard some interesting things about you and Eiji-senpai at lunch today,” Momoshiro teased and nudged Oishi in the side.

The madness crept right back into Oishi’s brain. “O-Oh?” he trembled.

“You’ve been holding out on me!” Momoshiro scolded him.

“Huh?” So far this wasn’t _too_ bad.

“So,” Momoshiro pressed, “since you’re my vice-captain and all…”

“Yes?”

“I was wondering if – just guy-to-guy, you understand.”

“Okay?”

“What’s it like?”

“Huh? What’s what like?”

“You know,” Momoshiro ribbed him again. “Getting _laid_!”

“Urk!” Oishi’s language center died once again.

Momoshiro pouted. “Aww, come on, Oishi-senpai! I promise I won’t tell anyone. I just want to know how you got lucky…and _how_ , am I right?”

And then, just as Oishi thought he was about to melt into a puddle of Oishi-goo, never to be seen again, he was saved by an angel. An angel with glasses, who seemed as though he were carved out of wood, given his stiff posture…

“Momoshiro, go get changed!” Tezuka ordered. “You’re leading the first-year practice today.”

Momoshiro’s face fell, and he slumped off to the locker rooms.

Oishi looked up at Tezuka in awe. Wonderful, wonderful Tezuka, who had never even _heard_ of a rumor and who still (as of last year, at least) thought babies came from the stork. Tezuka, who had absolutely no life whatsoever outside of tennis. Even if Tezuka _had_ heard the rumors somehow, the words ‘bondage’ and ‘tennis’ didn’t sound alike at all, so the information would just have passed Tezuka right on by.

Oishi debated kissing Tezuka for a moment. After all, it wasn’t like he could get any _more_ embarrassed, right?

“Oishi,” Tezuka said sternly, “I want to discuss the line-up for today’s practice matches with you.”

“ _Yes_!” Oishi breathed in ecstasy, because there was nothing in the world he wanted to talk about more than practice matches right then.

“I’m somewhat concerned about the line-up for C-block,” Tezuka continued, Oishi’s rock, the eye in the storm, and – dare he say it? – his pillar of support. “Osada and Sakai are scheduled for the first match this afternoon. However, Sakai injured his ankle on Tuesday, and I’m concerned he may be placing undue strain on it.”

“Yes, yes,” Oishi agreed seriously. “I can see why you’re worried. Do you want me to talk to him?”

“He insists he can play,” Tezuka said. “However…”

Oishi nodded. Seigaku players had a tendency to give their all, even when it was better to stay benched. “I can have a look at his ankle, if you’d like.”

“Yes,” Tezuka agreed. “That would be a relief.”

Oishi’s chest swelled with pride. He’d always known he loved tennis for a reason. Tennis was so beautiful, so simple, so clean and wholesome… Oishi felt himself brimming with goodwill and concern for his teammates once more.

“And…” Tezuka coughed, looking slightly embarrassed.

“Is there something else?” Oishi asked hopefully. He wanted to help his team however he could.

“I hesitate to bring this matter up, but…”

“For the good of the team, anything!” Oishi promised fervently.

“Well, if you could – er – go easy on Kikumaru?” Tezuka’s cheeks flushed. “I want him to be in top physical condition for our match against Rikkaidai.”

And Oishi’s happy place transformed into a nightmare. Even Tezuka, even _tennis_! There was no escape! He was trapped in this horror, forever and ever and…

Oishi wasn’t even aware of the fact that he’d collapsed, sobbing, right in the middle of school grounds. _Everyone_ stared at him.

“Mmm, data,” Inui moaned to himself in ecstasy in the background as he scribbled furiously in his notebook.

Fuji beamed. This was even better than the time he had convinced the entire school that Kaidoh secretly wore women’s underwear.

Kaidoh snorted but was silently very sympathetic with the latest victim of the Seigaku rumor mill.

“Huh, I guess that sensitive stuff really _is_ the secret to getting laid?” Momoshiro scratched his head.

“Oh, Oishi,” Kawamura sighed. “Be brave! Don’t listen to them. They’re just words.”

“Eh…” Echizen sighed wearily and went to get something to drink. He had a feeling practice was going to be delayed _again_.

Tezuka just stood, frozen, completely clueless as to what to do.

And that was when Kikumaru dashed over to the rescue at the sight of his doubles partner in agony. “Oi, oi!” he glared at Tezuka. “What did you _do_ to him, anyway?”

Tezuka looked thoroughly befuddled. “I just expressed my concern that your new training regimen might be too intense. I don’t want you to strain anything…”

“E-Eiji!” Oishi clutched at Kikumaru as his last refuge. “They all…! Everyone talking…! Bondage and…! _Help_!”

Kikumaru frowned at that and clutched his doubles partner close to his bosom. “Huh? What? You mean that dumb joke Fuji made this morning?”

Oishi shook his head. “I don’t know,” he sobbed. “Just _make it stop_!”

A dark look crossed Kikumaru’s face, and for the first time his teammates felt actual fear of him when he rose to his feet, holding a trembling Oishi up with him. “Listen up!” Kikumaru yelled at the top of his lungs so that all the students in the courtyard could hear him.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and shut up and listened.

“You people are all sick freaks!” Kikumaru shouted at them all. “Oishi didn’t _actually_ whip me! We were just _practicing tennis_! Yeesh, people!”

There was a moment of silence. A dog barked in the distance.

And then the murmurs started:

“Aww, you mean it wasn’t true?”

“Damn, I was so sure…”

“Well, that’s no fun.”

“Eh, what a rip-off!”

That’s when Masuda from the baseball team said to Suzuki, “Man, Coach gave me the ride of my _life_ yesterday!” He was, of course, discussing the baseball coach’s new sports car, which they had used to transport the new equipment to the clubhouse after practice the previous day.

The rumor mill cared not for context, however, and instantly the tide turned, and Oishi was left alone – safe and sound and in Kikumaru’s arms – once more.

“Oh, Eiji,” Oishi sobbed in relief.

“Shh,” Kikumaru hushed him. “It’s all over now.”

Tezuka blinked. “Laps?” he suggested hopefully, just wanting this whole very confusing incident to come to an end.

Laps, it was.

***

“Come on, Oishi,” Kikumaru said after practice once they were back at Oishi’s house. “You need to _relax_!”

“But your training program…” Oishi protested weakly. He really _did_ need to relax after the day he’d had.

“Tezuka was right. I need a break sometimes, so I don’t overexert myself,” Kikumaru insisted, “and taking care of you is important, too.”

“All right,” Oishi agreed with a soft smile. “Let’s relax.”

Kikumaru flipped open the trunk at the end of Oishi’s bed and tossed him the clothes inside. “Do you want me to hook up the sex swing, or do you just want to take it easy and use the handcuffs tonight?”

Oishi slipped off his pants and pulled on the leather codpiece and chaps Kikumaru had thrown to him. “I know it’s a pain, but let’s set up the swing,” he decided. “I _really_ need to let loose…”

“The swing it is!” Kikumaru agreed brightly, pulling the contraption out of Oishi’s infamous Trunk o’ Sex.

Oishi smiled back at him, fastened the ball gag in his mouth, and prepared for a thoroughly relaxing evening in Kikumaru’s safe and loving care.


End file.
